


Of Allergies and Secret Cats

by potter_queen



Series: Gallavich One Shots [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potter_queen/pseuds/potter_queen
Summary: Ian's allergies have been acting up, and he can't figure out why...His boyfriend Mickey is acting shady too...Maybe the two are connected?(Yes, yes they are. Mickey has taken home a secret stray cat.)
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Gallavich One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634716
Comments: 5
Kudos: 141





	Of Allergies and Secret Cats

_ “Achoo! A-achoo!”  _

The sneezes rip through Ian’s body without warning and he dives for a tissue, keeping his head turned away from Sue as he rummages through his pockets. He can feel the snot on his upper lip and he prays to God she doesn’t spot him. He quickly blows his nose, mortified, but when he chances a glance at her she hasn’t taken her eyes off the road.

“Bless you,” she says idly as she flicks on her indicator. They’re pulling up to the address of their next charge; an old lady who has fallen out of bed.

“Thanks. My allergies have been acting up recently.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sue asks. “Maybe it’s the weather. High pollen count or something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ian replies, but he’s not convinced. It’s been years since his allergies have been so bad, and it’s gotten so irritating that he’s considering taking an antihistamine again, which he used to do as a child but hasn’t had to for years now. It’s not even hay fever  _ season _ , it’s the middle of winter and he hasn’t seen a flower in months.

“This is it. Hop out, Gallagher.” 

They’re pulling up to the house now, and springing into action mode. Ian forgets all about his watering eyes and running nose; if there’s one thing being an EMT is great for, it’s being reminded of how damn lucky you are to be healthy.

  
  


~

  
  


Ian is exhausted by the time he returns home. His back is aching from the heavy lifting he had been doing all day, and his feet were aching. All he wanted to do was collapse on the couch, cuddle his boyfriend and watch old reruns on TV.

Ian fumbles with the key as he unlocks the door, and steps inside the apartment, sagging with relief. Something smells great as he walks inside; Mickey has cooked. Speaking of…

“Mickey?  _ Miiiickey!  _ I’m home!”

“Ian?” Mickey’s voice calls out from one of the other rooms, muffled. “Just a sec!  _ Stay there!” _

Ian pauses on his way to the stove, where there is a pot of something as yet unidentified beckoning him.  _ That’s weird,  _ he thinks idly. Before he can dwell on it too much, however, there are arms snaking around his middle and a chest pressed up against his back.

“Mmm,” Ian hums, sliding his hands over Mickey’s forearms and taking his hands. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Mickey mumbles into his back. “How was work?”

“Long,” Ian replies honestly, letting himself sag into Mickey’s embrace. He drops his head back till it’s resting on Mickey’s shoulder. “You?”

“Pretty good. Some old guy brought in an Aston Martin today. Only wanted me working on it. Got recommended, apparently.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ian grins, twisting to kiss Mickey on the cheek. Despite trying to play it cool, Ian can tell Mickey’s proud as fuck. Grunt work at a local garage had been the only job Mickey had been able to find after prison, but four years later, here he was, working at a fancy garage and fixing expensive cars. Ian loved Mickey’s job for many reasons. Firstly, it was legal, so Ian didn’t have to worry about Mickey getting arrested any more. Secondly, it paid well, and along with Ian’s salary, had allowed them to move into an actually  _ nice _ apartment, with two bedrooms and a great view of the city. Thirdly, and most importantly, Mickey  _ loved _ it, and Ian adored watching him get all excited talking about engines and horse power and other things Ian didn’t understand. The best thing of all, however, was getting to see Mickey in his overalls, sweaty and greasy and looking every inch like Ian’s wet dream.

“Proud of you, Mick.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey tried and failed to hide his smile. “I made chilli.”

“Ah,  _ that’s _ what smells so- so-  _ Achoo!” _

Ian’s sneeze tore him out of Mickey’s arms. He breathed out an irritated sigh and rubbed at his watering eyes.

“Jesus, keep your snot away from my cooking, asshole. You gettin’ sick or something?”

“No,” Ian huffed and sat down heavily at the table. “It’s my allergies, they’re really bad right now for some reason. I have no idea why.”

If Ian had been watching his boyfriend as he ladled spoonfuls of chilli into two bowls, he might have noticed how Mickey paused in his actions and shift his gaze guiltily towards their guest bedroom. As it was, however, he was too busy rubbing his nose with a tissue to see.

“That’s weird,” Mickey said eventually, sliding a bowl in front of Ian. “Here, eat up, sniffles. Food will help.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“Shh,” Mickey shut his boyfriend up with a kiss, unfazed by Ian’s chapped lips and red nose. “That’s how it works if I say that’s how it works.”

Well. Ian couldn’t argue with that logic.

  
  


~

  
  


“Mick,” Ian called from where he was leaning into the fridge. “We’re out of milk!”

“Fuck, again?”

Ian turned to find his boyfriend stomping into the kitchen in nothing but his boxers. His dick twitched in interest, but lay flat and limp against his thigh- he was still worn out from their morning sex, and then their shower sex, and then their sloppy blowjobs leaning up against the sink. The mind was willing, but alas, the flesh was worn out.

“Yeah,” Ian turned back to the fridge instead, shaking the milk carton hopelessly. “I don’t know where it’s all going; I swear I only bought this the other day.”

“Weird,” Mickey said with a cough, not quite facing Ian. “I can go out and get some in a bit.”

“Thanks, babe.” Ian leans down to kiss Mickey. It’s not often that Mickey offers to do a grocery run, so Ian is pleased, but he can’t help but be a little surprised. He doesn’t mention it though, opting instead to pour them both a cup of (black) coffee and enjoy his boyfriend’s company.

  
  


~

  
  


Ian heard the door click open, and he hopped up from where he was folding laundry to help Mickey unpack the groceries.

“Hey, babe,” he said cheerily, going to kiss hi boyfriend and taking some of the bags off him. They put the groceries down together and Ian went to start unpacking when he felt a hand on his wrist.

“I got it, babe, don’t worry.”

“Nah,” Ian insisted, pulling out the first item; a bag of carrots. “You shopped, I’ll unpack.”

“I said  _ leave it,  _ Ian.”

Ian stopped, and turned to Mickey in shock. His voice hadn’t sounded playful; it was stern, his ‘don’t mess with me’ voice, a voice he never used with Ian.

“What the hell is up with you?” Ian snapped, but Mickey wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Fine, Jesus,” Ian dropped the carrots roughly onto the counter. “Fuck me for tryna be nice, right?”

With that, Ian stomped off to their bedroom to throw himself down on the bed, feeling small and confused. What the hell had he done wrong? Why was Mickey being such a dick to him? Maybe something was wrong at work, Ian fretted. Had he not noticed something wrong?

He huffed in irritation, knowing that, even if there  _ was  _ something going on with Mickey, that didn’t give him a right to take it out on Ian.

Lying down, he could feel his nose running, snot starting to creep out of his nostril. Fucking allergies, he groused, fumbling in his pockets for a tissue.

He rubbed his nose miserably, feeling stuffy and confused and  _ sad. _ The enticing scent of Mickey’s pillow called to him from across the bed, and Ian ignored it stubbornly for a while before giving in, pulling the pillow towards him and burying his face in it. Fucking Mickey, even when Ian was annoyed at him, all he wanted was his comfort. He felt slightly vindicated, knowing he was getting snot and tears on Mickey’s pillow, but only slightly.

He could hear Mickey moving around the apartment beyond the door, opening and closing cupboards and walking all over the place. A door closed, and then everything was silent for a while. Ian was getting antsy, wondering if Mickey was going to come to him or if he would have to cave and go and find Mickey himself. 

Finally, after what felt like an aeon, their bedroom door opened, and Ian listened as Mickey padded across the carpet of their bedroom. The bed dipped behind him, and Ian’s senses were flooded with  _ Mickey _ , the real deal, not just his pillow.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Ian just sniffed, even though he had forgiven Mickey the moment he had opened the door. Mickey Milkovich apologies were rare, he never threw them around, so when you got one, you knew it was heartfelt.

“Can I hug you?”

Ian nodded into his pillow, and Mickey’s arm snaked around his waist. His legs tucked in behind the back of Ian’s, and he nosed Ian’s neck. His breath was warm. Ian felt his body sink into the bed and Mickey. Mickey was his safe space, his home, his comfort.

“Why did you snap at me like that? What the hell did I do?”

“Nothing,” Mickey whispered immediately, kissing the shell of Ian’s neck and holding him close. “Nothing at all. It’s my fault.”

“What’s your fault, Mickey?” 

No response came, but Mickey’s hands seemed to still where he was touching Ian.

“What’s your fault, Mickey?” Ian repeated, louder, suddenly feeling a lick of dread inside him.

“Mickey!” Ian pulled away from his boyfriend’s embrace and twisted to look him in the eye. There was guilt written all over Mickey’s face, and Ian’s stomach plummetted.

“Mickey, what the hell is going on?”

“I-” Mickey’s eyes shifted away, and he raised his hand to rub a thumb over his bottom lip; a nervous habit that Ian knew belied his guilt. Ian’s mind started going into overdrive; what was Mickey keeping from him?

“Are you-” Ian could barely bear to say it, his worst fears stuck on his tongue. “Are you cheating on me?”

_ “What?” _ Mickey’s face suddenly twisted in anger, and his eyes snapped to Ian. He scrambled off the bed and rounded on Ian. “What the fuck? How could you say that?”

“Well, what am I supposed to think?” Ian yelled, jumping up too and facing Mickey. “You’ve been acting shifty for  _ weeks! _ Acting weird, sneaking around the apartment, and now you snap at me for nothing?”

“Fuck.” 

Mickey’s anger disappeared before Ian’s eyes, and he sank onto the bed. He put his head in his hands, and looked so defeated that Ian’s anger disappeared too. Now he just felt worried.

“Ian, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Mickey looked up at him with big, worried blue eyes. He bit his lip, and Ian was distracted for half a second before he pulled himself together. “Tell me.”

“Actually it… might be better if I showed you.”

_ “Show me? _ Show me what?”

“Look, you can’t freak out, Ian. I mean it. You’ll scare her.”

_ “Her?  _ What’s going on?”

“Just… follow me, okay? Don’t freak out, Ian. Seriously.”

“Fine. Just show me already,” curiosity was starting to get the best of Ian, so he followed a very nervous looking Mickey out of their bedroom and into the hall.

The last thing Ian expected Mickey to do was to lead him to their guest bedroom, but that’s exactly what he did. Mickey stood in front of the door, wringing his hands together. Slowly, Mickey opened the door, and Ian stepped inside nervously, not knowing what to expect. 

Mickey crossed the room to the bedroom and knelt down beside the bed, sticking his face against the carpet and making strange little noises. Ian watched on in horror, convinced his boyfriend had lost his mind. Insanity; that’s what Mickey had been hiding from him.

Just as Ian was about to ask Mickey what the hell he was doing, the duvet hanging over the side of the bed moved, and something jumped into Mickey’s outstretched arms. Ian stared, dumbfounded, as Mickey got to his feet, cradling a jet black cat with wide eyes, who was staring at Ian in terror and shaking like a leaf.

Ian’s mouth fell open. “I- I don’t-  _ what?” _

“I found her on my way home from work, and she was so scared and frightened and I just couldn’t leave her! I just  _ couldn’t, _ and I know you don’t like cats, and we’re not supposed to have pets in this apartment, but I can’t just throw her out now, and- and-”

Mickey rambled on and on, cradling the cat to his chest like it was he was a mother protecting her baby, but Ian couldn’t hear a word he was saying. 

Ian’s heart had melted into a big puddle of goo and spilt all over his chest, warming him up and making his chest ache. The thought of Mickey taking home a scared cat and looking after her on his own made Ian fall in love with him all over again. Mickey was like an unsolvable puzzle; just when Ian thought he knew everything there was to know, Ian would reveal a whole new side to himself and capture Ian’s heart like he was fifteen all over again.

“Mickey.”

Mickey stopped, and stared at Ian, looking anxious but also defiant, like he was ready to fight for this little cat’s place in their home.

“This is what you’ve been hiding from me?”

Mickey nodded slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was scared you’d tell me I had to get rid of her, but Ian… I can’t abandon her now, okay? I was going to tell you, but then a few days went by, and then a week, and the thought of having to give her up just got worse and worse… Please don’t make me, Ian.”

“Mickey,” Ian crossed the room to his boyfriend and touched his arm. “I’m not going to make you get rid of her.”

Mickey sagged in visible relief. “You’re not?”

“No,” Ian grinned. “As if I could make you get rid of her after that heartfelt speech. I just wish you had have told me. I thought we didn’t keep secrets anymore.”

“We don’t,” Mickey hurried to assure him. “I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you. She’s really sweet. You’ll like her once you get to know her.”

“Yeah?” Ian reached out tentatively to stroke the cat’s head. She shied away at first but let Ian stroke her soft fur gently. She blinked up at him with big green eyes, and Ian’s heart panged. Okay, he could kind of see the appeal. “What’s her name?”

Mickey blushed, and bent his head to kiss the cat’s head and conceal his cheeks.

“What?” Ian teased, eager to hear what his southside thug turned mechanic boyfriend had named this tiny cat.

“Well, I’ve sorta been calling her Ali.”

“Ali?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause like, with her eyes, y’know? They remind me of what you looked like when you were like fifteen, with those big freaky green eyes. You were like an alien-looking motherfucker.”

“Soo, you named this cat after me?”

“Shut up. Yes. Stop laughing!”

“Sorry! Sorry! That’s just precious, Mick, you know that?” Mickey scowled and elbowed him, but not hard enough to disturb the creature in his arms.

“Ali, huh? It’s kind of cute. I like it.”

“Thanks.” Mickey smiled shyly, watching Ian’s face. Ian sighed in defeat, knowing he had lost. As if he could ever deny Mickey something so sweet and pure that was obviously making him so happy.

“I guess we have a cat now.”

“Yeah,” Mickey giggled.  _ Giggled. _ Anything was worth that.

All of a sudden, the tip of Ian’s nose started to tingle. He wrinkled it, trying to delay the inevitable-

_ “Achoo!” _

Mickey and the cat jumped, turning to glare at him. Ian felt very ganged up on. At least now he knew the cause of the damn allergies.


End file.
